


ice around my heart

by Spikedluv



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Pairing Implied: Derek/Stiles, Background Relationships, Community: trope_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3137198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s an ice dragon in Beacon Hills.  Somehow Chris ends up paired with the last person he wants to be teamed up with when the pack goes out looking for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ice around my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyoneill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/gifts).



> Written for the [Fandom Snowflake Challenge](http://snowflake-challenge.dreamwidth.org) _Day 6: In your own space, create a fanwork . . ._ This fic also fills a wish made by ladyoneill for a Peter(/Chris) fic in which Peter is not-evil. I’m also using this fic to fill the _huddle for warmth_ square on my round 4 card at Trope Bingo on DW.
> 
> Spoilers through season 4.
> 
> Written: January 7, 2015

The temperature dropped even further as they tracked the ice dragon through the Preserve. Chris took it as a sign that they were getting closer to the dragon’s lair. Which were two words that he never thought he’d have to say. Chris had remained silent and stoic the evening before when Scott had called them all together and reported seeing a dragon flying over the Preserve, but internally he’d echoed Stiles’, “Are you kidding me? Ice dragons are real!” sentiment.

When Scott was dividing up the Preserve for teams to search for the dragon, Chris offered to take the caves on the northern border. There were some cliffs there, as well as a river; it would be a perfect spot for a dragon to make its’ home.

“Alright,” Scott had agreed, “but we’re not going out now, it’s almost dark. And no one goes out alone. Not even you,” he told Chris.

Chris would’ve argued that he could handle himself, except it was sound planning, especially when going up against an unknown quantity like a dragon. Besides, Chris could read the unspoken, “Allison would kill me if anything happened to you,” in Scott’s eyes.

“In the meantime,” Scott went on, “we need to do more research so we know what we’re going up against.”

“And so we know how to kill it,” Malia said surely.

Chris stamped down on the urge to slide his eyes in Peter’s direction to catalogue his reaction to Malia’s practicality, borne of spending eight years of her life as a coyote.

“We’re not going to kill it if we don’t have to,” Scott said patiently.

“You really think you’re going to be able to negotiate with a dragon?” Derek said, eyebrows furrowed skeptically.

“I won’t know until I try,” Scott said.

“While I commend your altruism, Scotty,” Stiles said, “we’re talking about a friggin’ dragon here. A dragon who is making us freeze our asses off, and who could turn you into an icicle with one blast of its’ icy breath. Also, I don’t think they speak, and if they do it’s probably not English. Old Latin, maybe.”

Chris left while they were discussing whether the dragon would speak Welsh, or maybe German, French or Italian if it was from the Alps. Or perhaps Inuktitut, if it was from the northernmost parts of North America. At home he’d e-mailed a few of his contacts to see if they’d ever come across an ice dragon (or a dragon of any kind), or had even heard of one. While he waited for a reply, Chris pulled out the Bestiary and went through it.

Chris knew that the others were probably doing the same, but another pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he might come across something in the original Latin that was missed in a translation. Even a translation made by a perfectionist like Lydia Martin. When Chris woke the next morning, he’d received one negative reply from a hunter in Europe and a text from Scott with a frowning emoticon, which he took to mean that they’d had no more luck with their research than he’d had.

Luckily Chris had hunted all across the United States and so he had cold-weather clothes in storage and could dress warmly. Even with Alpaca socks, thermal underwear, and several layers beneath his heavy coat, Chris felt the cold when he stepped out of his apartment building. His temperature went up when he saw Peter Hale leaning against his Toyota wearing only a leather jacket over his sweater and a pair of thick socks in his hiking boots in deference to the weather.

“What are you doing here?” Chris said as he put the rifle case he’d carried down in the back of the SUV, ignoring the dread that filled him because he could guess exactly why Peter was there.

“Scott said we all needed to partner up,” Peter replied.

“Since when do you put yourself in any kind of danger? Or listen to anything Scott has to say?” Chris said.

“When it’s convenient, of course,” Peter said.

Chris ignored that. “I was expecting Derek.”

“I believe Stiles has Derek all wrapped up,” Peter said mockingly as he opened the passenger-side door.

“Did you tell Scott you were meeting me?” Chris asked as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Of course I kept the Alpha in the loop,” Peter said, offering one of the insulated travel mugs he’d been holding to Chris.

“What’s that?” Chris asked suspiciously.

Peter raised his eyebrows in a manner that made Chris want to punch him. “Coffee.”

“What did you do to it?” Chris asked as he started the SUV and backed out of the parking spot.

“I’m hurt that you think I’d, what, drug, poison, your coffee.” Peter touched the hand that held his own mug to his chest.

“Says the man who impaled me with a pipe,” Chris said.

“You’re still holding that against me?” Peter said.

When Chris bit his tongue and focused on the road out of town instead of replying, Peter huffed and set the mug he’d offered to Chris in the cup holder.

“I knew that earnest young deputy was following me,” Peter said. “And that he’d find you.”

“And be able to pull a piece of pipe out of a concrete wall?” Chris said bitterly, and then silently swore at himself for engaging with Peter.

Peter didn’t respond, which was just as well. Chris already wanted to shove him out the moving vehicle. Not that it would keep Peter from following him. Chris resolved to make the rest of the trip in silence. He pulled his cell phone out of his shirt pocket when it vibrated against his chest and read the text message from Scott.

_I got Peter’s text  
sorry_

Chris snorted and slid the cell back into his pocket. “You told Scott in a text?”

“Easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission,” Peter said unapologetically.

Chris sighed and shook his head. “Why couldn’t I have Derek? Hell, I’d even take one of the young ones.”

“They’re all young,” Peter said, sounding weary, but when Chris glanced at him, he looked like his normal, snarky self. “Scott’s taking Malia because he doesn’t trust her to forget that Plan A is _talking to an ice dragon_ ,” Peter said sarcastically, “and he’s got Derek keeping an eye on his first beta. I believe that our Banshee has been paired with your Deputy Do-Right.”

“Dudley Do-Right,” Chris reflexively corrected.

“Sorry?” Peter said smugly.

“Nothing.”

Chris managed to remain silent until they reached the pull off to the Preserve. From there it was all hiking and biking trails, so they’d be walking the rest of the way. He pocketed the keys and walked around to the back of the SUV. Chris slid a Bowie knife into the sheath of the shoulder harness he’d strapped on that morning and wrapped an ammo belt around his waist. He slung a rifle over his shoulder and made sure he had his hat and gloves before picking up the tranq gun and reaching up to shut the hatch door.

“What can I carry for you?” Peter asked.

Chris paused. “I thought you didn’t use weapons.”

“I don’t,” Peter said, letting his claws out with an audible ‘snick’ that made Chris want to roll his eyes. “But we’re going up against a dragon, so if you want to take more than you’ve loaded yourself up with, I’m happy to play pack animal.”

“I wouldn’t trust you to not shoot me in the back with it,” Chris said.

“Fair enough,” Peter said, but his face did something that Chris hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was difficult to believe that anything he’d said could’ve hurt Peter’s feelings, but he was right. Chris wouldn’t mind being more heavily armed. Peter didn’t shoot a rifle, but he could swing a mean blade. “Here,” Chris said, reaching back into the Toyota for the twin to his own knife.

Peter looked surprised, but masked it quickly. He shucked his leather jacket, which did make Chris roll his eyes, and slipped his arms through the harness Chris held out to him. He slid the knife into the sheath and secured it before pulling the jacket back on.

“In case the hide is too thick for your teeth or claws,” Chris said. He picked the tranq gun back up and swung the hatch closed. He started walking before pressing the lock button on his key fob as he passed the Toyota and headed into the Preserve.

~*~*~*~

Halfway to the caves it started to snow.

“What next?” Chris said, disgusted.

“I think that’s close enough to ‘could it get any worse’ to jinx us,” Peter said.

“Shut up,” Chris said, and kept walking.

Once in a while Peter stopped them so he could study the sky and apply his other senses, but they saw no trace of the dragon. The snow grew thicker on the ground as the tree cover thinned out the closer they got to the river and the cliff, making walking more difficult. Visibility was also poor, with the snow now blowing in their faces.

Even though it irritated Chris to allow it, Peter took the lead because his sight would better be able to pick out the path they were following. He’d also be able to sense the presence of the dragon quicker than Chris would, even with his senses hobbled by the snow.

Peter stopped suddenly and put his hand up. Chris stopped just in time to keep from running into Peter’s back. He glanced around in an attempt to see what it was that had alerted Peter. “What is it?” Chris asked quietly when he neither saw nor heard anything.

“I smell something,” Peter said.

“Is it the dragon?”

“I don’t actually know what a dragon smells like,” Peter snapped softly. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t belong here.”

A moment later Peter said, “Take cover,” and dragged Chris behind the nearest tree. It didn’t offer much cover, especially with their footprints in the snow leading right up to it.

“How good do you think its’ eyesight is?” Chris asked when the reason Peter had suggested they take cover came winging into view.

“I think we’ll find out very soon,” Peter said.

Chris fumbled his cell phone out with fingers that had gone slightly stiff due to the cold. He didn’t want to give away their position by calling Scott if they hadn’t already been spotted by the dragon, so he forced his fingers to work to send a text.

_eyes on dragon  
1/4 mi from cliffs_

Chris had the phone on vibrate, but he didn’t want to take the chance that the dragon would hear even that, so he added _don’t respond til all clear_

They waited until the dragon flew out of sight before stepping away from the tree. Chris kept his eyes trained on the sky as he dialed Scott’s number.

“Chris?” Scott answered, sounding worried. “Is everything alright?”

“We’ve spotted the dragon,” Chris said. “I don’t think it saw us. We’re going to keep going towards the cliffs. Send everyone this way.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Scott said. “Maybe you should wait for the rest of us.”

“We’ll freeze if we just sit here,” Chris said. Well, he would. “Besides, we don’t know for sure yet that it’s made its’ lair in these caves. He could’ve just been flying over.”

“Alright,” Scott said, “but once you’ve confirmed it, find someplace you can keep warm and out of sight and wait for us to get there.”

“Agreed,” Chris said. The two of them wouldn’t be able to do much against a creature that large, anyway, especially if it stayed in a cave on the cliffs. He pocketed the phone, zipped his coat up to his throat, and shoved his hand back into his glove. With one last look at the sky, Chris started walking in the direction in which the dragon had flown off.

Peter was silent as he followed Chris. Probably focusing on his senses. Five minutes into their trek, Peter reached out and grabbed Chris by the arm.

“That smell . . .”

Something grabbed Chris by the back of the coat and lifted him into the air. As he watched the ground fall swiftly away, Chris’ only thought was that he’d soon be joining Allison and Victoria.

“. . . is back,” Peter finished from his position swinging from the dragon’s claws next to Chris.

Up close, Chris could pick up on the smell Peter had been talking about. It wasn’t off-putting, exactly, but it was different.

When the dragon didn’t drop them immediately, Peter said, “Where do you think it’s taking us?”

“Maybe we’re going to be dinner,” Chris suggested morbidly.

The creature holding them shuddered, and then its’ voice boomed inside Chris’ head loud enough to give him a headache.

“Humans are too scrawny to make a satisfying meal. And they don’t taste good; too stringy. Unless you’re desperate, of course.”

“And are you desperate?” Peter asked.

Chris hadn’t been the only one to hear the dragon, then.

“Not yet,” the dragon ‘said’.

“Awesome,” Chris muttered.

The dragon didn’t speak again until after it deposited Chris and Peter on the ledge of a cliff that opened into a shallow cave.

“What are you going to do with us?” Chris asked when the dragon looked like it was just going to fly away and leave them stranded in the cave.

The dragon regarded them with one large eye. “I’m keeping you away from my beloved and our young so you can’t harm them,” the dragon informed them.

“We don’t want to harm them,” Chris said. “We only came to talk.”

The dragon looked unimpressed. “And yet you carry these weapons.”

“He’s got a point,” Peter said unhelpfully.

Chris didn’t lash out at Peter like he wanted to. “We weren’t sure you’d be receptive to talking,” he told the dragon honestly.

The dragon regarded them both. “What did you wish to talk about?”

“The cold,” Chris said. “It’s unusual for this area. And dangerous. People aren’t used to it. Some have died because of it.”

“Plus, we don’t like interlopers in our territory,” Peter added, flashing blue eyes at the dragon.

“We make no claim upon your territory, wolf,” the dragon said. “We’re just passing through on our way home. The cold will subside in a few days’ time, after the last of our young have hatched.”

“The last of them?” Chris repeated, wondering how many there were, but being smart enough not to ask. “Is this . . . I mean, have you used these caves before? I don’t remember ever hearing about a cold like this in the area in the past.”

The dragon continued to regard them as it leisurely flapped its’ wings and hovered outside the cave opening. Chris thought it might not answer, but finally it said, “No. We live in the Northlands. This area is much too warm for us normally. My beloved couldn’t make it home in time for the hatching, which is why we had to stop here, and why I had to make the area suitable for her needs. You will remain here until we can leave.”

“We’ll freeze to death,” Peter snarled.

“Wait, the rest of our pack is coming!” Chris called out as the dragon took flight after its’ last pronouncement.

“You should tell them to stay away,” the dragon sent back.

~*~*~*~

“How the hell are we going to do that?” Chris muttered as he yanked off a glove and reached inside his coat for the cell. As he’d suspected, there was no service. “Nothing,” he told Peter as he shoved the useless phone back into his pocket. “Can you . . . ?”

Peter stepped to the mouth of the cave and stood there as if he was preparing himself. He threw his head back and roared, the sound of it going through Chris in a way a werewolf’s roar hadn’t since what seemed like a lifetime ago. When Peter turned around, Chris busied himself with divesting himself of his weapons so he didn’t have to look him in the face.

“You didn’t even drop the tranq gun,” Peter noted, sounding impressed.

Chris glanced at the weapon in question, which he’d just laid on the cave floor, against the wall and out of the way. “I’m just glad I didn’t piss my pants,” he said, remembering the sensation of dangling hundreds of feet off the ground from the dragon’s claws.

Part of Chris wished that the dragon had dropped him, and then he felt guilty for it. Allison wouldn’t have wanted that. But he could’ve told her about the ice dragon, which she would’ve thought was cool. She probably already knew. Dragons, sweetheart, can you believe that? Chris thought.

When Chris turned around, Peter was staring at him. “What?”

Peter shook himself. “Nothing.” He glanced around the cave. “There’s nothing here to burn for heat.”

Chris looked around as well, though he didn’t doubt Peter’s words. They were inside, out of the wind and snow, but it was still freezing.

“You know what we’re going to have to do,” Peter said.

I’d rather freeze to death, Chris thought. The sneer on Peter’s face said that he’d guessed the line of Chris’ thinking.

“Tsk, tsk,” Peter said. “What would Allison say?”

Chris rushed Peter and shoved him up against the opposite wall of the cave. “You don’t get to mention her name,” Chris snarled.

“Why not?” Peter smirked. “Sully Saint Allison’s name by speaking it? It wasn’t me who killed her,” Peter pointed out.

“You did nothing to save her!” Chris spat angrily.

“And why should I have?” Peter said calmly, as if Chris didn’t have a hand against his throat. “For old time’s sake?”

Peter broke Chris’ hold easily and threw him off. Instead of attacking him, though, Peter moved to the back of the cave and removed his jacket, and then his sweater, beneath which he wore a long-sleeved Henley. Maybe he hadn’t been as oblivious to the weather as Chris had thought.

“What are you doing?” Chris said when Peter sat on the jacket and sweater he’d piled together to untie his hiking boots.

“You know exactly what I’m doing,” Peter said. “It’s the same thing you’ll be doing if you want to survive.”

The horrible, tragic thing was, Peter was right. And, as much as he didn’t want to be in the same town with Peter, much less suck in the same damned freezing cave where they were going to have to share body heat if they didn’t want to freeze to death, Chris knew it. They had no idea whether they would be stranded there for a few hours, or a few days.

“I hope you go to hell,” Chris muttered angrily as he stomped over to where Peter had started laying out the bed they were going to have to share.

“At least I’d be warm,” Peter said.

Without speaking, they finished undressing, placing half their clothes on the cave floor in a probably futile attempt to keep the cold from seeping through, and made a blanket out of the rest. Chris managed to ignore Peter’s nudity until they got under the top layer and were pressed together. Chris shivered when his chilled skin met the warmth of Peter’s. Chris got a spiteful satisfaction from the gasped, “Holy shit!” when he put his cold feet against Peter’s shins.

Chris closed his eyes and thought about Scott and the others. He hoped they were safe, even though there was nothing he or Peter could do about it from the cave. He’d have tried climbing down if they’d brought any gear for it, but Chris hadn’t anticipated being imprisoned in a cave by a dragon like a damsel in distress.

As Chris warmed up he realized how early in the day it was, and just how long that meant he could be lying there next to Peter, sharing the extra body heat the werewolf put off. The thought also made him wonder if Peter couldn’t have survived the cold without the necessity of sharing body heat, or whether he might have been able to climb the cliff face, presuming the dragon allowed the attempt.

“Why are you doing this?” Chris asked into the silence.

“What, you expected me to leave you to die?”

Chris shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

“You left me first,” Peter said bitterly.

“You can’t die from a broken heart,” Chris said, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it. He remembered how horrible he’d felt when Gerard had sent him away from Beacon Hills.

“I tried,” Peter said. “I engaged in some ‘destructive behavior’, as Talia put it,” he added.

“I’m sorry,” Chris said, the words a surprise even to himself. He realized that he’d always wanted to say them, but then Peter was injured in the fire and then he killed Kate, and it seemed much too late. And too little. And impossible.

Peter snorted. “Even if it’s true, that changes nothing. Now shut up.”

Chris did, letting his mind wander. Fucking Gerard, he thought. Chris would never regret meeting Victoria, or having Allison, but he would always regret allowing his father to force him to leave Peter the way he had. Even if the Peter he knew now was nothing like the Peter he’d known then. Maybe especially because of that. There was no excuse for some of the things Peter had done, but Chris knew that he, his family, both Kate and Gerard, had a hand in making him the monster he’d turned into.

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Peter growled.

“I didn’t say a word!” Chris said.

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Well, forgive me for thinking,” Chris snapped back.

“I know what’ll turn your brain off,” Peter said, the soft slide of silk in his voice.

“No,” Chris said, but before the word was out Peter had blunt teeth against Chris’ throat.

Chris was pretty certain that Peter wasn’t going to rip out his throat, and he knew that Peter couldn’t turn him, but those were low on his list of concerns. More worrying was the way his body had always reacted to the feel of Peter’s teeth against his skin. Chris didn’t know if his body was still hardwired to respond, or if Peter even remembered . . .

Peter’s hand between his thighs, fingers curling around Chris’ already stiffening cock, answered both questions.

“Peter,” Chris said warningly.

“Shh,” Peter said as he licked a stripe up Chris’ neck.

Chris’ head fell back as if Peter’s tongue had licked all the tension out of his neck. His back arched as he pushed into the too light touch of Peter’s hand. Chris tried to stop himself when he realized what he was doing, but Peter tightened his grip and twisted his wrist just the way he had when they were 17 and sneaking away to be together.

Chris’ breath stuttered and he reached back to grip Peter’s hair as he alternately licked and bit at Chris’ neck, oblivious of the cold on the skin he bared to the frigid air outside their cocoon.

“Did you ever think about this?” Peter said against Chris’ ear as he steadily stroked Chris, keeping him on the edge.

Chris wanted to say no, but he knew that Peter would hear the lie in his voice.

“I thought about what would happen if I ever found you,” Peter admitted as he thrust his own hardness against Chris’ ass, giving Chris the mental image of just exactly what Peter would’ve done to him.

They’d never done that. Not that they hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t talked about it, but their time together had been limited to when they could sneak away from their respective families, and besides, they’d been 17, both going off at a touch even if their refractory periods had been short.

Caught up in the moment, Chris said, “Do it,” before he could sensor himself.

Peter chuckled against the side of Chris’ neck. Instead of irritating him, it send a shiver down his spine. “I will,” Peter promised. “When you’re mine again.”

Chris thought he should maybe take umbrage at that, but Peter knew just how to touch him to turn off his cognitive abilities – it’s why they’d almost been caught a time or two. “Fuck,” Chris groaned. “Will you just . . .”

“Will I just what?” Peter said annoyingly before returning his mouth to Chris’ neck.

“You know damned well what,” Chris got out before he cried out when Peter’s thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves as his teeth worried the tendon in his neck.

“Like this?” Peter growled.

Chris’ answer was a wordless keen as he emptied himself into Peter’s hand. Peter eased Chris through his climax before releasing him and unhooking his leg from around Chris’, as if the hand on his cock and the teeth against his throat hadn’t been enough to hold Chris in place.

Peter reached between them and used the hand covered in Chris’ spunk to slick himself. Chris felt Peter’s knuckles against his lower back as he stroked himself, and then the warm spread of his release as he came all over Chris’ back and ass.

“You did that on purpose,” Chris mumbled.

“Mmm,” Peter said in agreement as he spread his own spunk across Chris’ skin, and then raised his hand to his mouth and licked it clean of their mingled release. He’d always been one to mark his territory like a dog pissing on a tree, even when they’d had to be careful, and that had apparently not changed.

“This isn’t going to happen again,” Chris said. This had been a moment of weakness, one which he wasn’t going to repeat.

“Mmm,” Peter said again, and Chris knew it wasn’t in agreement this time. Especially as Peter proceeded to wake Chris every couple of hours during the night to ‘warm him up’.

Chris allowed it (also known as, was an active participant), but he had to draw a line and stand firm. “This isn’t going to happen again once we get out of this cave,” he said adamantly.

“Mmm,” Peter said.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> My personal headcanon for Peter and Chris is that they knew each other when they were teenagers, and that they were together until Gerard (possibly got wind of it and) sent Chris away (when he was 18, to sell weapons in Japan, wth?). This will probably be mentioned in all of the canon-compliant-AU stories I write for them.


End file.
